


cause I’ve been trying way too long to try and be the perfect song

by luke hemmings (wishingforlondon)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Luke, and it's really bad pls forgive me, i don't even know what it is, idk - Freeform, like really really bad, literally the first thing i've written in ages that's not poetry, shitty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1542893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishingforlondon/pseuds/luke%20hemmings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thinking about Michael was, for Luke, just a really bad idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cause I’ve been trying way too long to try and be the perfect song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [metallicmoons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/metallicmoons/gifts).



It was raining on October 7. School started the next week, and instead of swimming in Calum’s recently reopened pool, Luke Hemmings was walking home from band practice in the pouring rain, thinking about his life and school and Michael and everything he really shouldn’t be thinking about.

Looking back on it, Luke would probably call that his first mistake. Thinking about Michael on October 7 meant thinking about the way sweat made Michael’s skin shine as he laughed with Calum. Thinking about Michael meant thinking about the way Michael’s fingers danced when he was playing guitar. Thinking about Michael was, for Luke, just a really bad idea. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so hard if Michael didn’t absolutely loathe him, Luke thinks, as he unlocks the door to his house and yells a quick “I’m home!” to his mum. Although, maybe it wouldn’t have been so hard if Michael wasn’t so damn straight.

Running his hands over his face in exasperation, Luke collapsed in his bed, landing head first on his pillow. Band practice had been long and hard that day — he’d kept messing up the chords for their newest single, and Michael had yelled at him every time he did. And while he knew he deserved it, his crush yelling at him wasn’t the way Luke liked to spend his days. 

Luke groaned as his phone vibrated, rolling over to grab it from where he’d thrown it, along with his bag, on his nightstand. The light of the phone screen shone brightly in his room, making him squint.

_hey mate!! ash is throwing a party tonight, u in?_

He smirked, knowing Calum was probably already on his way to pick Luke up.

_btw im at ur house hurry up_

Luke jumped up from his bed, tearing off his sweaty All Time Low shirt from band practice and pulling on (what appeared to be) a clean plaid shirt. He grabbed his phone and wallet before running downstairs, preferring a typical year 12 party to drowning in self-pity all night. Maybe getting drunk would help him to forget Michael.

“I’ll be back later, mum!” Luke yelled as he ran outside, ignoring the rain as he opened the door of Calum’s car and threw himself inside.

“Heeeyy mate!” Calum shouted, starting to drive before Luke had even put his seatbelt on. He’d never been one for inside voices.

“Hi,” muttered Luke, anxiously looking at his phone, desperate to not invoke a conversation and to get some alcohol to remedy whatever he was feeling.

When they got to the party, Calum immediately departed from Luke’s side in favor of some wasted year 10 girls. Luke rolled his eyes, knowing that Calum would probably not be spending the night alone. He looked anxiously for Michael, doubting that he was even there. Parties weren’t really Michael’s scene. He didn’t really react to the girls that threw themselves at him (which Luke was thankful for). He preferred being alone in his room (which Luke would happily do with him).

Not seeing him, Luke went to find a drink. He tossed it back quickly, before grabbing another, eager to just forget. He’d always been taught that alcohol was the worst way to deal with your problems, but tonight, he just didn’t care.

Six drinks later, Luke was a mess, stumbling around Ashton's house and running into people. He hadn't seen Calum since he'd gotten to the house, and he hadn't seen Ashton at all. It was at this moment, however, that he saw some familiar black and purple hair.

"Hey Mikey!" He shouted, shuffling over to the other boy, who didn't hear him. Luke stood watching as Michael threw his head back laughing at what some pretty little brunette was saying. Luke stood watching as Michael's lips met the pretty little brunette's lips, heart falling to the ground before shattering on the carpet.

He ran away rapidly, tears blinding his eyes as he cursed himself for stupidly thinking that he might actually have the slightest chance with Michael. Blind with sadness and self-hatred, he sprinted furiously outside, darting through the rain until somehow, miraculously, he came to his house. Still stumbling, he unlocked the front door and went up to his room, collapsing on his bed, tears still stinging his eyes.

It was after noon when he was woken up by his phone buzzing. He blindly grabbed for it, unaware of its location and praying that the throbbing in his head would cease.

_hey lukey!!! dont forget about band practice at 3! see ya there! -ash_

Groaning, Luke looked at the clock — 2:55pm. “Fuck,” he muttered, throwing himself out of bed and quickly taking some paracetamol and throwing on a wrinkled t-shirt. He grabbed his guitar and his bag before hurling himself down the stairs and out the door, dashing to Calum’s house.

“Sorry, I’m late!” He yelled, running into the basement. 

“Sleeping Beauty finally showed up,” spoke a voice from the corner. Luke started shaking, trying to rid himself of the memories from last night. He turned towards Michael.

“Not all of us sleep all day, Clifford,” Luke retorted, desperately trying to ignore the way Michael’s shirt rode up as he stretched. 

“Oi, Mikey,” shouted Calum from the other side of the room, where he was tuning his bass. “What’s this I hear about you and Kylie Williams last night?”

“Oh, yeah. She was fun, I guess.”

“You guess?” asked Ashton, pulling drumsticks out of his backpack.

“I’ve had better.” 

Luke stiffened at this, determined to not give away the jealousy and sadness he was feeling. He fiddled with his guitar strap, now anxious to start practicing. 

Calum whistled. “On that note, let’s practice, yeah? I have a date tonight.” 

Six songs later, Luke was exhausted and in need of a break. He quietly excused himself from the room, running upstairs to grab a glass of water. Before he could though, he found himself pushed up against the wall in the dark kitchen.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today, haven’t you?” Michael murmured in Luke’s ear, hands on either side of Luke, keeping him in place.

“I just..tired. I’m tired,” Luke stuttered, now conscious of his every movement and desperately trying to not look Michael in the eye.

Luke could feel Michael’s lips on his skin, leaving behind the ghosts of soft kisses on his collarbones and neck. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, certain that this was just a dream.

“Tired, hmm?” Michael whispered into Luke’s neck, before reaching up and covering Luke’s mouth with his own. Luke moaned into the kiss, hands reaching up and tangling themselves in Michael’s hair as Michael’s hands found his waist. It was rushed and passionate and everything Luke had been dreaming of for so, so long, except this was Michael and Michael was straight and Michael hated Luke. 

Luke pushed Michael away, tears now forming in his eyes. “Y-you can’t just do that. You can’t just… Leave me alone.”

“I thought you wanted that,” said Michael, eyebrows crunching as he looked at Luke in confusion. 

“L-leave me alone. Yeah. Leave me alone.” Luke pleaded, ditching band practice and fleeing to wherever he could go that Michael wasn’t.

Hours later, Luke was still ignoring calls from Calum and Ashton and Michael. Michael, as in Michael Clifford, as in the Michael that hated his guts and who had kissed him just a few hours before. Michael had kissed him. 

But Michael hated him, right? Michael hated his guts and that’s why he always made fun of him and laughed at him and told him to shut up because he didn’t care about what Luke had to say.

Luke sighed for the thousandth time that afternoon, letting a tear slip as he looked down at his vibrating phone and the dozens of texts he had on it

_luke, please answer_

_we need to talk._

_whatever happened between u and michael doesnt matter cmon lukey_

_luke, cmon man! we have to finish practice_

_its raining really hard please youll get sick_

_luke just let me just explain_

Luke sighed, fingers fumbling from the cold as he slowly typed a response to the last text.

_i’m at the park by the slide where we hung out when we were little_

He hesitated before clicking send, closing his eyes and leaning back on one of the steel poles that supported the slide. All he had to do now was wait.

It seemed like he’d only been waiting a minute when he heard the footsteps approaching. He didn’t look up as the footsteps got closer, simply managed a, “Hi,” before he collapsed back into silence.

Michael sat down next to him, so close that their shoulders were touching. “Hi.”

The two sat there for a few minutes, both struggling to find the words for what they both needed to say. Finally, the elder one spoke.

“I don’t actually hate you.” he whispered, turning his head to look at the blonde. “I don’t think I ever could. I just...fuck, you’re fantastic. You’re perfect and I really love you and it’s really fucking scary and, shit, I don’t want to. But I do,” Michael rambled, “and I guess I just sort of have to accept it.”

Luke froze at these words. “Do you mean it?” He whispered, doubtful that his stupid crush could really mean anything.

“Yeah.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I do,” Michael smiled, hair stuck to his forehead from the rain.”

“Do you mind if I kiss you?” Luke whimpered, blue eyes glancing down at Michael’s lips before looking back up.

“Shut up, Luke,” Michael muttered, before his lips met Luke’s again.

_do you feel us falling? cause I feel us falling..._

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i've written in awhile hopefully i'll post something better soon i had another idea that's less cliche i guess idk
> 
> (first posted april 29, 2014)


End file.
